


Strange Magic

by plastic_cello



Series: The Ballad of Tony and Loki [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas Decorating, Loki's pessimism, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-01 23:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2792078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/pseuds/plastic_cello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bony, smoky, and sugary; these were the things that made up Loki now, and each attribute was perfect in its own right. Tony loved him and never would stop loving him no matter what. Because his emotions ran deeper than vanity; he loved Loki because of the person that he was not what he looked like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I had gotten sudden inspiration to write another installment in The Ballad and Tony series. This is definitely the last one; people who I've spoken to privately will understand why.

* * *

"There was a five star chef, probably the best in all of New York City, in this very apartment only twenty minutes ago and you could only muster up a few bites. But now you're shoveling candy canes into your mouth like it's going out of style." Tony stared in disbelief at the scene in front of him.

There was a plastic evergreen in his Manhattan penthouse; well over eight feet tall, with a lanky and too skinny rock star hanging up baubles of every color on its fake branches with a candy cane hanging languidly from his lips. They had had this conversation before about proper nutrition, especially when it came to the fact that Loki had lost six pounds recently. But the argument had obviously fallen on deaf ears.

Tony had tried everything short of holding Loki down, to make him eat properly (or eat at all). He had flown in chefs from every part of the world. He had taken him to every well-renowned restaurant in New York, London, Paris, Rome, and Geneva to no avail. All the fucker wanted to do was smoke and eat candy.

"You've been hoarding candy canes, haven't you?" He accused as Loki reached down to retrieve a delicate silver ornament from the box of many. "Do you remember how you promised me that you would eat?"

"I am eating." Loki said between clamped teeth.

"Actual nutritional food, not just a shit ton of sugar, Loki,"

"I ate."

"You ate two bites." He said in frustration. "You know you aren't a spring chicken anymore. Maybe you could eat absolutely nothing in the seventies, but you can't now. You're fading away."

They had had this conversation many times too. Loki had since stopped being offended by the notion that he was no longer young. While he looked exceptional for his age, he was still showing telltale signs of it. There was a prominent streak of white in his mostly black hair now, and the wrinkles around his eyes had deepened to the point that they showed whether or not he was smiling.

Age had been both kind and cruel. Not only for Loki either. Tony felt the effects of his age nowadays too. He had aches and pains that he never remembered having before. Sometimes it was hard to get out of bed without groaning like a rickety old man. So he was no different in that respect.

Tony suspected Loki was depressed. He never outwardly looked disquieted, though. It was just the way he moved sometimes; the distant stare that honed in on something that wasn't really there. And then there was the lack of eating that had been going on since September, which he'd only been informed about when an ever-vigilant Gwen Stacy contacted him out of the blue.

"Is this about Phil?"

"My lack of eating would be about him why?"

"Don't play stupid, Loki. He died and you haven't been the same ever since. This whole not eating thing happened after everything was said and done." Tony tried to be delicate with his words, although they still sounded so damn harsh anyway. "I mean you never have been a fan of eating, but you've been trying the last couple of years for my sake."

Loki paused midway in hanging another bauble. His hands were still steady, despite the channel of veins that colored his once impeccable skin. In some ways, Tony preferred the way Loki had aged; he seemed almost human at times, even if most of the time his god-like status was still very much apparent.

Phil Coulson, manager extraordinaire, had died in late August from a stroke. It had been sudden and unexpected, and the news hadn't really seemed to jar Loki on the outside. Tony had stupidly assumed he had been all right; he wasn't happy, but who really was when someone died anyway? Well, unless you were a well-documented psychopath which Loki was not.

Phil had been instrumental in reviving Loki's career, and while the workload hadn't been very heavy this past year; he still had had a hand in things. He had still been vibrant and as sharp as a tack until the end. So in retrospect, Tony should have known Phil's loss would hit bone-deep for Loki.

"When did I get this old, Anthony," Loki asked as he removed the candy cane from his mouth. "Where did the time go? When did we become decrepit and forgetful and gray?"

The question had come out of left field for Tony. He honestly didn't have any comforting words to say. Everything that came to mind felt manufactured and insincere. How could anyone answer that question really?

Loki was usually so closed off that it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Throughout the duration of their relationship (their _real_ committed relationship), Loki had only opened up to him a handful of times, and only when he had been pushed to the brink. They didn't sit around telling anecdotes of pain very frequently.

Nowadays they didn't discuss much of anything about the past, specifically the moments their lives intersected when they were younger. Loki didn't like to talk about it. He had non-verbally forbade any conversation about the past, including any discussion about Sif.

"Sweetheart, people get old every day. You aren't the first person who has a little white in his hair or a couple of wrinkles. It happens to the best of us." Tony said lamely.

"Perhaps so," Loki slid the candy cane between his lips again, and continued to trim the tree with methodical movements. Every bauble was precisely hung as if Loki had some sort of blueprint in his head to make the tree look best.

Tony watched Loki closely. He was worried about him; he should have been far more concerned than he had been once the news of Phil's death was announced. But he always seemed to have a delayed reaction; he never knew what to do when someone died. Hell, he hadn't known what to do when his old man died; so he was completely useless when a passing acquaintance died.

No matter how many deaths he experienced, the protocol was never the same. Loki's reactions weren't the textbook definition of grief either. He marched to the beat of a different drum. Maybe it wasn't even a drum at all; it could have been a piccolo for all he knew.

Collapsing into the closest armchair, he continued to watch Loki as he decorated. That damn candy cane hung haphazardly from between his lips, as rounded the plastic branches, and hooked one ornament after the next on them.

"I'm sorry about Phil. I never said it, but I really am. He was a good guy."

"Who'll be next, I wonder?" Loki bit down onto the candy cane with an audible, almost morbid crunch. "Will it be Fandral with his intestinal problems or James with his PTSD or my beloved brother Thor and his high cholesterol and that wild temper of his or maybe it'll be me?"

The morbidity had gone too far for Tony. He understood why Phil's death had such a tremendous impact on Loki in hindsight. But he didn't want to entertain any thoughts of death right now, especially Loki's death. Not when he looked so frail and considerably unhealthy at the moment.

Loki's health was always a point of contention between them. Tony couldn't do anything to stop him from smoking or even encourage him to eat. All his efforts were futile because Loki was so damn hardheaded. Everything was a battle; everything was an issue.

"For Christ's sake, why the hell are you even thinking about this right now? We could be having a great night; Christmas decorating and a beautiful meal, but you rather eat pure sugar and speculate on who's going to die next. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year,"

It would be a lie if he denied the fact he worried about Loki's demise. Loki was doing very little to prolong his lifespan, even when his doctor specifically told him about the dangers of his continued tobacco intake it hadn't stopped him from smoking. When he lost these past six pounds, he didn't even blink an eye either.

"So you never question your mortality?"

"I question my mortality all the time. I had three months in captivity to do that. But your mortality, I try not to think about it. I've always seen you as a god."

"I'm not immortal, Little Stark." Loki tossed his half-eaten candy cane to the coffee table behind him. "I hate that you've elevated me and put me onto this pedestal. You've seen every ugly part about me, and yet you still insist that I'm flawless and somehow above you."

"Above everyone," Tony supplied.

"You're bloody ridiculous." Loki scowled, while he grabbed several more ornaments and hung them without the care of the rest.

The mood had soured exponentially from even moments ago. Tony inwardly cursed; tonight was supposed to be pleasant and relaxing, the exact opposite of what it had evolved into. Unfortunately, things never seemed to work out the way he planned them. Loki never played by the script.

Despite wanting to say something to reverse the damage, he recognized the fact that sometimes his mouth only made a bad situation worse. So he sat quietly as Loki finished trimming the tree and illuminated the lights by flipping a switch several feet away.

The tree lit up with the glow of rainbow lights, a real sight to behold. It was probably the nicest tree Tony had ever seen, although he was more than likely biased. Anything Loki touched was perfection to him, even when it wasn't and was really a disaster instead.

The lights flickered and danced across Loki's pallor. He looked paler than usual, almost gray but there was a small smile on his lips which was strangely reassuring to Tony. At least there was something that could make Loki happy still, even if it was small and insignificant.

" _You're sailing softly through the sun, in the broken stone age dawn; you fly so high,_ " Loki started to sing in a crisp and clean voice; the very same voice that captivated Tony from the get-go as a teenager.

Somehow Loki had retained his vocal abilities, regardless of his nicotine addiction. Tony wasn't aware of him doing any extensive vocal exercises either. It was like he'd been gifted with the greatest and the most low maintenance ability around.

Outside of the occasional concert, Tony hadn't heard Loki sing in a while. But sometimes inspiration seemed to hit Loki out of the blue and he would burst into song. It could be at the most inopportune times too; in the middle of a department store or while during laundry, wherever he felt like really. And Tony was always struck by the magic of it.

" _I get a strange magic, oh what a strange magic; oh, it's strange magic. Got a strange magic,_ " Loki lifted his voice and belted out the familiar tune by Electric Light Orchestra.

Tony had loved that song back in the day. He vaguely recalled smoking a joint with Rhodey and lying on the floor of his New York apartment, humming along with the melody. Or at least he believed he had; his memories weren't very good anymore. They'd been pretty bad after his constant alcohol and drug abuse.

He shut his eyes and listened to the even tempo and the precise way Loki sang. Goose flesh prickled across his arms, and he felt a swell of love work its way up his throat with every lyric. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that Loki was the love of his life, and he wanted him around as long as humanly possible.

Wrinkles and white hair and scars and soft bits of flesh didn't take away from Loki's attractiveness. Something as shallow as age couldn't dampen Tony's desire for him, and his emotional desire for him was equally impressive as the first time they formally met. Nothing could ever change that.

They had shared nine very good years together, even if they had lived apart for much of it. They had had previous conversations about finally becoming domesticated. There had been plenty of talks about the Swiss Alps, but nothing had ever come to fruition. No one had had made the first move to make it a reality.

Maybe this coming year, he would finally buy a chateau in the mountains for them. He could have a workshop built onto the property and operate his own R & D department from there. Pepper could remain his eyes and ears of the company without any trouble. She might be upset by the spontaneity of the move, but she'd get over it eventually.

" _Got a strange magic; you know I got a strange magic,"_ Loki continued to sing, which caused Tony to open his eyes and watch as Loki swayed his hips to the sound of his own voice.

The sight was heartwarming and nostalgic. Tony wanted to capture the moment in a bottle and hold onto it for dear life. He wanted to add it to the collection of grainy and convoluted memories from the past. But unlike the rest, this one would be shiny and new and unmarred by time.

Something oddly fierce burnt him to the core, as he watched Loki move under the watch of the Christmas tree. He wanted to protect Loki from every danger in the world. But more specifically, he wanted to protect Loki from himself. He wanted to throw away every cigarette and candy cane, hidden in the bathroom cupboards, in between sofa cushions, under the bed, and in coat and trouser pockets.

He wanted Loki to eat actual food. He wanted him to focus on his health from this day onward, and to never allow himself to grow this thin and fragile again. And he knew Loki was capable of it; he had stopped taking psychedelic drugs early on in their relationship, so he could give up tobacco too just as Tony gave up most alcohol.

Of course, he hadn't been a perfect saint when it came to alcohol. He had the occasional drink at dinner or at a cocktail party. But he no longer drank to excess with the sole goal in mind of being in a drunken stupor. He felt like he had lived up to his side of the bargain, and he wasn't in any threat of an untimely death now.

"Do you even know how much I love you?" He asked as the song died on Loki's lips. "Because it literally hurts me to see you like this, Loki; the way you abuse yourself rips me apart."

Loki went perfectly still, a centurion basking in the festive and cheery glow of the Christmas tree. His face had fallen behind a neutral expression, the same one that always found its way onto his features no matter what. Tony still couldn't crack the mystery behind it and it always drove him crazy.

They stared at one another in absolute silence. Loki broke the eye contact with a shake of his head. It was so damn dismissive that it made Tony's blood boil. Because he knew Loki wasn't taking him seriously. Or he wasn't taking the part about his health into account, which was typical Loki.

"Don't be dismissive with me."

"I'm not, Anthony."

"Bullshit,"

"Can we possibly enjoy the rest our evening without an argument?" Loki sighed. "I know how much you love me and I love you, too. I don't mean to hurt you, but I'm set in my ways. I won't stop smoking, but I will try to eat more if that's what you want."

"I wish you wouldn't smoke." Tony rubbed at his eyes in frustration. "At least consider it; the health risks outweigh the benefits."

Loki didn't reply. He already knew the health risks of smoking, but the fact of his own mortality didn't seem to be enough of a motivation to quit. It should have been and yet it wasn't. Tony feared that maybe Loki was starting to give up.

It wasn't something he actively acknowledged, despite all the signs being there. Loki might have continued some of his daily rituals; he might have pretended like everything was okay, however it clearly was not. This was an active defiance to life and it scared Tony shitless.

"I'll consider anything once." Loki finally spoke. "But at my age, I should be able to smoke if I want to. Wouldn't the damage already be done anyway?"

"Why risk making it any worse than it already, possibly, is?"

"Because I enjoy it, because I feel like myself instead of an imposter in this body."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at me, Anthony." Loki demanded, while spreading out his arms. "I'm only a figment of what I once was. I used to be beautiful and strong and confident. Now I'm feeble and wrinkled; I'm _old_."

The words echoed cruelly off the walls. Tony flinched but made it a point to get up. Neither of them was young and virile as they once were, but that didn't change anything for Tony. Loki was still beautiful to him and always would be.

"I'm not a teenager anymore either, Loki. So what? You're still hot to me. Yeah, we might not fuck like we used to, but that doesn't mean I don't want you. Because I probably want you sexually more than you want me, and that's cool. I get it."

"Sometimes I don't recognize myself." Loki dropped his arms. "My world is slowly caving in on itself. Amelia's death was the first, colossal break. Now Phil is gone and I wonder who'll be next. I wonder if I can take any other loss."

Tony didn't hesitate to cross the room then. He immediately looped his arms around Loki's midsection and pulled him flush against him. Loki reciprocated a split second later, and they hugged like the world might end if they didn't. It possibly could. Or in the very least, Loki might crumble into dust if he didn't hold him together.

Bony, smoky, and sugary; these were the things that made up Loki now, and each attribute was perfect in its own right. Tony loved him and never would stop loving him no matter what. Because his emotions ran deeper than vanity; he loved Loki because of the person that he was not what he looked like.

"I wrote a book." Loki said quietly, almost on the verge of being a whisper.

"You wrote a book?" Tony repeated, before he pulled away to look at Loki. "When did you write a book?"

"I started in May. I finished it last week; it's my autobiography."

"That's, wow, that's incredible. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I wanted to finish it without any outside influence; I wanted to write everything that I remembered and it's quite the story I must say."

"When can I read it?" Tony asked with genuine interest.

The life Loki had led was undoubtedly an epic one. From the things that Tony knew of, he knew it had been a crazy ride and was bound to be a number one best seller. Although, he wondered if some of the dicier details would actually be published. And did he want his name included in the book?

Before he could ask any questions, Loki pulled away from him with a small smile. It was genuine and reached his eyes that looked suddenly tired and droopy. Loki got tired pretty easily nowadays; sex had been pretty infrequent because of it. But Tony wasn't complaining; he already understood why.

"Soon; you'll read it very soon." Loki nodded, as he cupped Tony's cheek. "I'm tired, Little Stark. I'm going to bed; tomorrow I'll eat a hearty breakfast, every last bite. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that." Tony let Loki walk away from him and felt an inkling of hope. "I love you."

Wordlessly, Loki rested a hand over his heart which was enough for him. He knew Loki loved him; there wasn't a doubt in his mind. Nine years spoke all for themselves; every moment was a declaration of love that it didn't need to be verbally said for Tony to know.

He watched Loki walk to the hallway and disappear around the corner that led to the bedroom. Maybe there was hope for a change still; Loki would gain back the weight he lost, and he might begrudgingly give up a few cigarettes without too much nagging too. Loki had surprised him before and he would undoubtedly do so again.

Humming the tune to the song Loki had just been singing, Tony picked Loki's discarded candy cane from the coffee table and popped it in his mouth, and grabbed several ornaments to finish the last of the decorating. Regardless of the fact things hadn't gone exactly how he hoped they would, he had faith that things would turn out okay eventually.

They always made it in the end. Always.


End file.
